For We Are Few
by The Grimm Reaper
Summary: Hiccup managed to get away from Berk before his final trial in dragon killing school. Now, five years later, Berk is about to learn that their war with the dragons is just one of many, and they will learn that not all is as it seems, especially when it comes to a certain skinny viking.
1. Prologue

He'd done it again. Only he could; most vikings would make minor mistakes infrequently, but for Hiccup Haddock, major screw-ups were as regular as the days in a year. His latest screw-up involved a decent portion of his village believing he was some sort of dragon killing savant (even though he hadn't actually come close to killing any dragons), the majority of the teens admired him without realising the truth, and the one teen he actually liked was so bitter with jealousy, he believed she might actually try to kill him if the opportunity presented itself. To top it all off, his father had returned from another failed attempt to find the nest housing the source of the village's troubles, only to learn from the village about his son's supposed way with the beasts. What made this the worst thing of all was the fact that Hiccup should have explained to his father earlier on that he could never bring himself to actually kill a dragon, which was exactly what was expected of him the following morning.

All in all, the complications that Hiccup was destined to face were too great for him to handle. His immediate instinct was to pack his things and head into the woods where his one true friend was waiting, and ride off into the sunset, but Hiccup fought that urge. He surmised that it would make more sense to go at night, so as to avoid being spotted by sentries.

Hiccup gathered a few essentials such as; writing materials, a water skin, a hammer, some spare clothes, and a few odds and ends for his friend. He placed these items in his favourite rucksack and left it behind his house. He then journeyed over to the smithey, where he planned on collecting some of his sketches and plans. Due to the nature of these plans, he wanted to erase any trace of what he'd been doing. Rather than destroy them, he held onto them in the event that they would be of use in the future.

When he returned home, he was greeted by his father, the chief of the village of Berk: Stoick the vast, lighting a fire in the fireplace. As father and son made eye contact, Hiccup did his best to disguise any sign of what he had planned.

"Hiccup. Good to see you, son. Are you excited about tomorrow?" the large, stocky viking asked, a smile hidden behind the thick ginger moustache and beard. Despite being unable to see his father's grin, he smiled back. But his eyebrows contained a hint of worry, a feature which didn't go unnoticed by his father. The young viking took a seat on the stool across the fireplace from his father.

"Honestly dad, I'm a little nervous. Monstrous Nightmares are supposed to be one of the more ornery dragons out there, and we didn't learn much about them in training. Not to mention the book of dragons can only tell me so much." Hiccup replied, hoping against hope that his father might reconsider making him kill a dragon. With his luck, Stoick would just go so far as to make him kill a different kind of dragon.

"I understand, son. That particular breed of dragon is indeed difficult to handle. Even I had my doubts about being capable of bringing one down the first time I came across one." Stoick said. It was these very rare moments in which Stoick would actually listen to what Hiccup had to say and do his best to relate to the situation that Hiccup loved, for it was those few moments in his life where he felt even remotely connected to his father.

"It's hard to believe that you of all people would have ever felt an emotion even close to fear or doubt." Hiccup commented, placing a gentle smile on his face. He enjoyed being able to smile at his dad without having to force it.

"Aye. It might seem like that, son. But the truth is, I'm quite often afraid. I'm afraid of the answers to the questions my mind spouts every day; 'Is today the day the dragons attack again?' 'Is today the day the village is damaged beyond repair?' 'Is today the day my only son is lost to one of those beasts?'." Hiccup's smile dropped and his face adopted one of sympathy as he looked at his father, the stress of his role as chief finally showing under his eyes and across his brow. "There are at least a dozen more questions like those that enter my mind every morning. And I fear that one day, the answer to any of them is 'yes'. But I can't let those fears show, because it is my duty as chief to be a pillar of strength for the village. It's one of the responsibilities that comes with the job, but it's not all that bad." he said, giving a mild chuckle afterward.

Hiccup looked towards the fledgling fire as it began to rise. "It's funny, but I used to think those questions myself. Including 'Is today the day that my father, the village chief, dies doing what he does best? Fighting dragons and saving his people.' Of all the questions, that one was always on the forefront of my mind." he said, chuckling. Stoick lifted an eyebrow and smiled at his son.

"Oh? And what made you stop asking those questions?" he asked, curiosity veiled behind his rugged voice. Hiccup brought his gaze over from the fire back to his father, an amused smile on his features. He wanted to tell him the truth; that he'd actually shot down the Night Fury, that he'd tried to kill it, but couldn't. He wanted to tell him that he released the dragon and it didn't go for the kill like Gobber said. He wanted to explain that he'd taken the opportunity to study the nature of dragons, learn from them and applied them in training, and even went so far as to befriend the most feared dragon of all.

"After all the dragons you've faced, after all the trips you've made into Helheim's Gate, after all the attacks on the village. I figured if it hasn't happened already, it probably never will. I figured the gods have blessed us with the will and power to survive any and every attack. Granted, not all of us have survived, but I'm talking about the village as a whole. And considering that the chief basically personifies the village, you'll wind up surviving long after everyone else. Because like the gods, you care about us. You fight for us. And you've been rewarded for your dedication." the young viking rose from his stool and stepped over to his father before placing a skinny hand on the chief's shoulder.

Stoick placed his hand over Hiccup's, trying to fight the tears of pride threatening to escape his eyes like last night after he'd given Hiccup his viking helmet. He took in the visage of his child, from the grass green eyes to the small scar on his chin. "You're a good son, Hiccup. I don't say it, but I'm lucky to have you. You might not be a strong viking, but Thor almighty if you aren't a good one." he said before standing up, Hiccup's hand falling down from his shoulder as he stood too high for it to reach. "I'm going to the great hall. I have some last minute chiefing to do. I'd recommend getting some rest for tomorrow. Good night, son." he said, opening the front door. The sun had set, and the pink sky was just beginning to turn dark.

"Night Dad." Hiccup replied as the door closed. Once Stoick had left, Hiccup's kind smile had faded. He stood there for a few moments, gazing back into the fire. As he looked around the house, he saw all the memories he held of this house. The two large lounge chairs behind the stools by the fireplace showed ghosts of Stoick handing a skinny little twig of a viking a bow and arrow. The words uttered from the ghost's mouth inaudible. Hiccup was six when his father had given him his first bow. They'd gone hunting maybe three times before Hiccups slow progression of skill with the weapon mixed with the increase of Stoick's duties as chief caused the lessons to cease.

Another memory manifested in the room beneath the stairs. Hiccup's study was once his father's trophy wall. The ghosts of the past showed Stoick lifting the four year old Hiccup up so he could place his father's newest addition onto the shelf. The result was the added weight finally caused the poorly designed trophy wall to collapse.

Looking back over to the front door, one final memory surfaced. This one wasn't as clear as the others, but it was obvious to Hiccup what it was. A large figure and a slender figure standing by the door. The larger of the two began tossing a small chicken sized figure into the air and catching it again three times before handing it over to the slimmer figure. The two figures connected briefly in what may have been a kiss before the larger figure left entirely.

Hiccup stared up towards the stairs, knowing what he was about to do would undoubtedly undo everything he had achieved in relation to his reputation to Berk and his relationship with his father. "Odin, protect them." Hiccup prayed before ascending the stairs. He entered his bedroom and made his way around the bed to the window beside it. He stopped and took one last look around. "Sorry, Dad." he said, before jumping out of the window. He landed with ease, his rucksack hidden behind a barrel next to him. Pocketing the plans into the sack, he shrugged the thing over his shoulder and ventured into the woods.

It took him a while to find his bearings in the darkness, but he'd been to the clearing often enough that he didn't get overly lost on the way. As he entered the clearing, he called out to his friend. "Toothless! Where are you, bud?" he asked. Almost instantly, a light rumbling noise responded behind him. Hiccup was familiar enough with the noises of his friend to recognise that sound as having come from Toothless. He turned around with a smile to see a barely visible outline of what could be mistaken for a giant bat. A pair of glowing green eyes locked onto the skinny viking.

"Hey, bud. Come on, we have to go. We're leaving Berk for good." Hiccup knew Toothless was smart, at least as smart as he was. So he was thankful when the dragon didn't seem to press for a reason behind why they suddenly had to leave. Instead, Toothless merely leaned down to allow the viking access to the saddle he had fitted to the Night Fury's body. Once Hiccup was on, the pair took flight almost instantly. Fortunately, Hiccup had the foresight to dress for the cold of the night as they soared high over the island. He looked down at his village and wished it a silent farewell as he turned Toothless towards the horizon, following where the sun had set.


	2. Chapter 1

_**...5 Years Later…**_

Stoick looked out at his war torn village, the last five years having brought about the destruction of whatever stability could be found between the dragon raids. The disappearance of his son was the first sign of what the villagers would come to identify as Ragnarok. Since Hiccup's disappearance, life on Berk had slowly declined. The dragons would attack faster than their livestock and food reserves could resupply. Even outside assistance from traders like Johann only served to delay the inevitable.

Compounding the problem, dragons weren't the only threat Berk faced; Alvin and his outcasts were another front which Berk was ill-equipped to defend against. Even the notable skills of the young and eager Hofferson girl did little to improve the situation. The greatest source of Berk's imminent destruction was the morale. In this case, there was none. For three years, the villagers fought strong, under the strong leadership of Stoick the vast. But even Berk's mightiest began to feel the effects of this proverbial uphill climb. The villagers began to feel as though they were battling against the will of the gods. Stoick's leadership skills began to deteriorate. With the randomness of the dragon attacks, and the shortage of all major amenities, his strong will began to wane and he found himself thinking of the son he'd lost.

He wondered what Hiccup might do. The boy wasn't exactly strong or experienced, but he often had ideas. Stoick wondered if one of Hiccup's wild inventions might miraculously save the day. The large viking was brought out of his thoughts by the sight of his oldest living friend ascending the few steps up to his house, the man's wooden leg making light clunking sounds on the stone. Gobber the belch; not the most interesting of nicknames, but there was no other viking worthy of the title, such as it was.

"Gobber, how're things?" Stoick asked. His friend's face looked worn, tired. Neither he nor Stoick were as young as they used to be, and it was showing. But they weren't ready to be put out to pasture just yet.

"Not good Chief. Stock's low and fishing's not netting as much as it used to. If ye ask me, I'd say we've got maybe a week's worth of food left before folks start gnawing each other's legs off." the blonde one-legged one-armed viking said. Gobber's heavy accent was a small comfort to Stoick. But the news regarding the supplies was a cold reminder of the situation they were facing.

"It seems we've run out of options. Gather the villagers in the great hall. I have a proposal I wish to run by them." Stoick commanded. Gobber nodded and left without saying a word. As the belch went to gather the villagers, Stoick made track for the great hall, the building in which all major decisions relating to the village as a whole was made. Once it also housed many a celebration, but the dark days Berk found itself in left little to celebrate. Even their treasured holidays had been discarded in favor of survival. Their last Snoggletog was the year after Hiccup left.

Upon entering the great hall, Stoick found only one man present, his half-brother, Spitelout. This viking was a formidable warrior; strong, fast, battle hardened. Spitelout was also quite intelligent, however, his stubbornness was unrivalled. This was the main reason Stoick often left Gobber in charge of the village whenever he was away, as opposed to Spitelout.

"Ah, stoick! Come join me in a little... _inebriation_." the black haired viking offered. His voice was deceptively light for a viking. As Stoick approached, he began to notice that the man had been taking some time to enjoy a drink or two. Despite the shortage of supplies, Stoick knew that he'd earned it, so he didn't say anything.

"I'll pass, Spitelout. I've called a meeting with the village." Stoick replied, taking a seat beside his brother.

Spitelout adopted an expression of suspicion. "I hope this isn't another attempt on Helheim's Gate? The way things are now Stoick, if you made another proposal for that nest, ye might just find ye'self running from an angry village." he said, hoping to deter his chief from upsetting the already unhappy folk in his charge.

"We don't have the resources for another try on the nest. No, the fact is, we're running low on supplies. We're facing extinction, and I believe the time has come for us to rebuild elsewhere." Stoick said, knowing already, the reaction that was sure to come.

"So it's come to that, has it?" Spitelout responded. He took another gulp from his mug. "Ya know, when things started to go bad three years ago, I had a sneaking suspicion that this might happen. I hoped against hope it wouldn't, but when things showed no sign of getting better, I figured it was only a matter of time. I'm just surprised it's taken _this_ long. Chalk it up to yer great leadership I guess." he said, raising his mug before finishing the contents off.

Soon after, villagers began to file into the great hall. Among them were some of the more notable families without whom the village might not have survived as long as it had. There were the Hoffersons. Fishermen by trade, though their youngest daughter; Astrid proved herself a great warrior. Stoick believed her drive was to redeem her family after the incident regarding Fearless Finn Hofferson, in which he froze during an attack by the Flightmare. Astrid was rather skinny for a viking. Women tended to be less bulky than the men, but this girl was especially thin. However, it seemed that there was more strength in her fist than most vikings had in their whole bodies.

Spitelout's family filed in at varying intervals, though the last of the family was Spitelout's son and Stoick's nephew, Snotlout. The boy was a capable enough warrior, though humble was perhaps not in his vocabulary. He looked like a younger version of his father, and held the same amount of pride as him too. The only difference was that Spitelout had earned the right to brag about his adventures.

The Ingerman family were known for their skills as shipwrights. Theirs weren't the fastest vessels, but gods if they weren't sturdy. Fishlegs Ingerman was the youngest. He was a hefty young man, built for strength, but at the cost of speed. On top of that, the boy showed an aptitude for knowledge comparable to Hiccup.

Finally, there were the Thorstons. The twins often caused more harm than good, but their friends had somehow managed to direct that destructive nature towards the dragons. That team effort probably saved more lives than anyone cared to count. The twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, were practically identical. Unless one were to hear their voices, they would be unable to distinguish which was man and which was woman. Like Astrid, these two were surprisingly skinny, and although the twins didn't have as much strength as Astrid, their endurance was unbelievable.

As the last of the villagers shuffled into the great hall, Stoick approached the small stage at the back of the hall so all could see him. The stage was simply a platform no higher than a foot above the ground. Resting against the wall was a throne reserved for the chief. Stoick chose to stand, however. He raised his hands into the air, motioning for silence. Once the last few dregs of conversation had died down and all attention was on him, Stoick spoke up with enough volume so those furthest away from him could hear.

"Friends! Brothers and sisters! I have grave news. Gobber has informed me that our reserves are frighteningly low. We've enough food left to last us a week at best." He paused in his speech to allow the villagers to process this information. Murmurs and frightened chatter began to erupt briefly before Stoick called for it to die down once more.

"I understand how you all feel. The wildlife on the island has been completely exhausted, and any livestock we had remaining was taken in the last dragon raid. The food remaining in our reserves is all the food that remains on the island." he paused again, having reworded the last part so the direness of the situation could be made clear to all. "With things the way they are, I see no alternative but to call for the evacuation of Berk." Almost immediately, a cacophony of conversations began to erupt. Some villagers relayed their fears of leaving Berk, others their anger. Some had begun to wonder what the future held, while others were downright claiming madness as though Stoick had just suggested they denounce the gods.

Stoick raised his hands again and the villagers quieted down, though their expressions still spoke loudly. "I don't want to abandon Berk any more than you do. But the fact of the matter is, between the dragons and the outcasts, we're on the verge of extinction, and I'll be damned if I'm to be the last of our people's Chiefs. Now I called you all here for two reasons. One reason was to inform you of the situation thus far. The other reason was to get your opinions on the matter. Does anyone have any idea how to either help us remain here on Berk, or help us live long enough to cross the sea? If you have options, please remain behind and speak to me and the council after this meeting has been adjourned. Those of you who can't think of anything, start packing for the voyage. Pack only what you need and two memorabilia at most. We only have so many ships, and therefore only so much room. Meeting adjourned!" Stoick watched as most of the villagers stumbled out of the hall, resigned to their fate. A few villagers stayed behind, two of which were Astrid Hofferson and Fishlegs Ingerman. Stoick motioned for the two to approach the council and give their ideas.

Astrid was the first to speak. "Chief, Fishlegs and I may have an idea to help with the journey." she began. Stoick nodded, motioning for her to continue. "Trader Johann is due to arrive tomorrow. If we could borrow him for the journey, that would give us an extra ship to travel on." Astrid said.

"Potentially with some much needed supplies. It might not be much, but it couldn't hurt. Plus, he could guide us beyond the archipelago. I've heard him say problems with dragons aren't so bad out there." Fishlegs added.

The council all nodded, liking the pair's plan. Stoick smiled at the two friends. "Excellent idea. You do your families proud Astrid, Fishlegs. Trader Johann could indeed prove invaluable not just beyond the archipelago, but within it also. He may know some travel routes we can use to avoid enemy detection." Stoick said. The two young vikings smiled and bowed to their chief before they were excused.

As Astrid and Fishlegs exited the great hall, they were greeted by Snotlout and the twins. "Can you believe this?! What are they thinking evacuating the village?" Snotlout burst out, his frustration with the topic evident for all to see.

"I know. I feel like leaving would mean I can't see any houses on fire. All that beautiful destruction and mayhem! My life will no longer have meaning!" Tuffnut replied, dropping to his knees and banging his fists into the ground.

"Huh, maybe we _should_ leave. If your life has no meaning, then you can start asking that all important question." Ruffnut said.

"You're right sis. I can ask that all important question; 'what is the meaning of this?' wait, that's not right. What was it? _Life!_ 'What is the meaning of _life_?' Yeah, that's the one." Tuffnut rose back to his feet, seemingly content with the plan to evacuate now.

"Mutton-heads." Astrid mumbled as she walked past the three. The five of them began heading for the centre of the village together.

"Don't you get it? It's the only option left for us. If we leave and regroup, we could potentially come back and get revenge on the dragons. But if we stay, we'll die out long before the opportunity presents itself." Fishlegs said, trying to placate the still outraged Snotlout.

"I guess you have a point. And a change of scenery would be nice too, I guess." Snotlout relented.

Fishlegs smiled. "That's the spirit." When the five teens reached the centre of the village, they broke off to start packing their things and help their families with their packing.


	3. Chapter 2

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since they'd left their lives behind. The village of Berk was just one of many islands attacked by dragons. If Berk's people were to survive, they knew they had to venture out beyond the archipelago. Thanks to Trader Johann's knowledge of the seas and secret travel routes, the villagers had made good time, reaching the border within three days, and unharmed. But eleven days beyond the border of the archipelago, with nary an island in sight was beginning to wear thin on the normally tough and gruff vikings. With supplies running dangerously low, the vikings had rationed out their food and drinkable water a week ago. They had maybe another day's worth of food for everyone before they would have to battle starvation completely.

Stoick stood at the bow of Trader Johann's vessel. He scowled at the horizon, seemingly cursing it for having no land in sight for them to settle and restock. It was frustrating. He and his people seemed doomed to suffer famine until extinction. Even Johann's supplies had dwindled to inedible trinkets and baubles that while normally priceless, were worth nothing to the starved.

"Chief Stoick," Johann said, addressing the large viking. Stoick turned around to face the man who had been kind enough to suffer alongside his people. Before Johann spoke again, Stoick guessed he was going to try and separate from the group of ships. To his surprise, this wasn't the case. "I feel I must inform you that we are about to enter into a warzone." the sailor said. Stoick raised a ginger brow.

"I don't hear battle nearby, there doesn't seem to be any sign of an army on the horizon." Stoick said, wondering what Johann meant by his words.

"Nor will you find any. When I say we're about to enter a warzone, what I mean is we're entering a region where war can break out at any time. There are two factions," Johann paused as some of the vikings gathered around to hear his tale,. Astrid and the others among them. "One of these factions consists of dragon hunters. They are experts when it comes to hunting and capturing or killing dragons. I'm sorry to say that they make you fine people seem like amateurs." While some of the vikings took offence to that last remark, the rest, Stoick included remained silent, waiting for Johann to continue.

"The second faction consists of the exact opposite. These people are few by comparison, but strong. They are mysterious and everybody I've asked seems to know next to nothing about them. However, there is one consistency throughout every tale I've heard. I've taken to calling them 'Dragonriders'." Johann waved his hands as if to add flair to the title. This caused a ruckus amongst the group that had listened to his tale. Stoick himself seemed perturbed by this information.

"Impossible. Dragons are savage mindless beasts. You'd have better luck riding a rabid yak." said Gobber, hobbling up to the group to stand next to Stoick. Most of the vikings agreed. Snotlout still seemed angry.

"I bet I could kill a Dragonrider with one hand." said Snotlout in his obnoxious manner. Ruffnut and Tuffnut silently agreed with him, a pair of chuckles indicating that in truth, they doubted the viking's strength.

"I doubt it, Master Snotlout. The hunters number in the thousands, while the riders are rumoured to be less than a hundred, yet the hunters are still losing the war." Johann said. This caused Snotlout to turn silent as he seemingly reconsidered his previous statement.

"Maybe two hands?" he said uncertainly, trying to salvage what little pride he could.

While the other vikings continued to talk about these new warring factions, Stoick turned back to the horizon. ' _Regardless, neither the hunters nor the riders are our concern right now. We're nowhere near land, and we've only enough food to last one more day._ ' he thought.

* * *

The following morning, Astrid awoke to the cold morning air. Opening her eyes, she noticed almost immediately the fog that had drifted in. Like many of her fellow vikings, she had slept outside on the deck of one of the ships. The cold morning air bit into her skin, and she naturally tried to cover her arms in her hands, rubbing them up and down.

Doing little to comfort her, Astrid tried to walk around the ship to warm herself up. She expertly and stealthily avoided tripping over and waking her fellow vikings, most of whom were splayed all over the deck, fast asleep. She could hear some of their stomachs rumbling in their sleep, which immediately made her think of food herself. Although she took pride in being one of the strongest vikings in the village, she had to admit that the hunger was getting to her. Lately, she would react to one of Snotlout's foolish and brazen comments even before he'd said anything. Her hunger was beginning to affect her overall mood, and she found herself thinking about things that would get her thrown overboard if they ever came to light.

Cold and hungry, Astrid decided to sit on the ship's stempost, the dragon head carved at the top large enough to seat her. As she sat herself down, she rested a foot into the open mouth of the wooden dragon and perched an arm on her hiked up knee. She sat there, looking out to the horizon, trying to rid her mind of any negative thoughts. As loyal as she was to her people, she just couldn't help but think. _If there hadn't been so many of us, we might not be starving right now_. She quickly shook her head free of the thought and looked dead ahead. The ship she was on was at the head of the small fleet, beside Trader Johann's vessel. The group of ships were packed so close together, it didn't take much effort to hop from one ship to the next.

As she looked tiredly out on the horizon, something caught her eye. A section of the fog was slightly darker than the rest, and it was growing even darker by the second. Astrid squinted to try and make out the source of this darkness, when she saw it. Two distinct stemposts curved and shaped to look like a pair of spiked talons connected to a massive ship. Astrid took a few seconds to register this. She couldn't believe it; just when the people of Berk were about to give up… She snapped into action.

"Ship, dead ahead!" she called out to any who would hear her. Her sudden cry out woke nearly every viking on the ship and the two closest to it. Among the vikings awoken was Stoick.

The chief jumped over to Astrid and had her point out where she saw the ship. As Stoick followed the direction her finger was pointing, he then saw the two talons on the bow of the oncoming ship. It was a frightening looking vessel, and that was just the front.

"Wake the others. We can't guarantee that they'll be friend or foe. I want every viking ready to fight should the need present itself." Stoick ordered Astrid. As she went off to follow his command, the large viking tried to examine the ship further. As it grew closer, Stoick noticed that the vessel had been in a fight recently. Scorch marks coated the hull like bruises on a reckless child. As more of the ship came into view, Stoick noticed the sails had been torn to shreds, so much so, it was a miracle the vessel could even move. Gobber approached the chief.

"Ye know, if it's a ghost ship, could be there's food and water on board. We could really do with a break, Stoick." Stoick knew Gobber was right, of course. But what if it wasn't a ghost ship? Would whoever was on board be willing to part with what they had? The chief didn't like the idea of turning to piracy to survive. He decided to turn to more positive thoughts.

"This ship does more than provide us with a chance to replenish our stocks, Gobber. If a ship is out here, then that means we're getting close to civilisation, and therefore," he left the final word hanging in the air for Gobber to pick up on it. And pick up on it he did.

"Land! Of course. That'll boost people's spirits, alright." the man replied, a crooked grin plastering his face. As the villagers all looked towards the oncoming ship, something happened that gave them all pause. Stoick tried to squint his eyes for a better view, hoping he'd imagined it. But everybody saw it, and didn't know what to make of it.

The ship visibly jerked, as if having been reigned in like a horse before returning to it's original position towards them.

"What in Thor's name was _that_?!" one of the villagers asked. Everybody was on the lookout for another motion like the last, but none ever came. Finally, the entirety of the ship came into view. It measured at least fifty meters in length and nine meters wide. Easily four times the size of the ships Berk's people inhabited.

"Get ready to board! We're going to investigate the ship! Be on guard, whatever caused the ship to jerk like that could still be on board!" Stoick shouted as the vessels separated to surround the larger of the vessels. When Johann saw the shredded symbol on the mainsail, he grabbed Stoick's attention.

"Chief, that symbol; this is a hunter ship. If memory serves, this is a dreadnought class ship. One of their larger vessels. If it's this badly damaged, you should be extra careful." the man said.

"I'm grateful for your advice, Johann. However, I suspect that whatever did this is gone now." Stoick replied. Vikings began to throw grappling hooks onto the deck of the ship as it came in range. Stoick began to climb one of the dozen ropes. As he set foot on the deck of the ship, he was amazed by the amount of damage done to it. The deck itself looked like it might crumble under the pressure of new crew members. Spitelout followed Stoick on board, and gave more or less the same reaction. Splinters and fallen pieces of the mast littered the deck, black scorch marks could be seen everywhere and some weapons and shields lay resting with dried blood coating them. What unnerved the vikings was the lack of bodies present.

"This is worse than the last time we came back trying to find the dragons' nest two years ago." Spitelout commented, walking over to pick up one of the bloodied swords. He slid his tongue along the edge. "Dragon blood. Ye can taste the smokiness in the blood." he said, dropping the sword back onto the ground. The noise rang out and echoed throughout the ship. Stoick listened for any reaction, but heard nothing. It was deathly silent on board the ship. The ginger viking began to feel unnerved.

"Let's not push our luck. Search the ship for food and water." he commanded.

"Where are you going?" Spitelout asked. Stoick made his way towards the stern of the ship.

"I have a feeling I know what caused the ship to move the way it did earlier." he replied coldly, his path set.

Gobber had difficulty climbing the ropes, on account of his hook and pegleg. However, with the aid of Astrid and the rest of his former students, the blacksmith managed to board the vessel. Upon seeing the destruction, the viking whistled.

"Odin's skivvies! This place is messier than my last relationship. The fallout looks about the same though." he said. While his former students stewed in that image, Gobber made his way to the rear of the ship, where he noticed his old friend examining the floor.

Gobber followed Stoick's examinations and noticed the deep gashes in the wood. "What ye thinking?" he asked.

Stoick traced his fingers along the claw marks. "I'm thinking this is what caused the ship to jerk. A dragon took off from this end." Gobber took a closer look at the claw marks and gashes. He noticed the distance between them, and the depth of each mark.

"Not just any dragon, but a big one, going by the marks." gobber commented.

"How big are we talking here?"

"I'd say it'd be about fifteen meters long. Maybe... seven meters high. And heavy, if it rocked a ship this big." Stoick's eyes widened.

"Do you think it could be…"

"I doubt it's the same dragon that took Valka, Stoick. But it could be the same kind of dragon." Gobber said, reading his friend's mind.

Stoick scowled as he looked down at the claw marks. He had never forgotten the face of the dragon that took his wife from him. A few moments silence were interrupted by a very distinct cry of pain.

"OH, I'M HURT! I AM VERY MUCH HURT!" the two heard Tuffnut cry out. Stoick and Gobber both sighed in annoyance.

"Thor's sake! Always something with that lad." Gobber commented as the two went to investigate.

Turns out the inside of the ship was laced with boobytraps, the first of which had been activated by Tuffnut blindly descending the stairs into the interior. Once he'd made contact with the ground, a hidden bear trap clamped itself around his leg. The poor boy would need to avoid walking for a while.

* * *

The oceans were calm as a dragon with four wings skimmed the surface. The dragon was a Stormcutter, a fairly large dragon by normal standards, but by no means bulky or slow. A person rode atop the stormcutter. Unidentifiable behind the tusk clad mask, the person wore chest armor and large armbands with talons above their hands. They also wore a red, torn cape and strips of fabric around the waist.

The rider stood on the back of the dragon, having gotten used to balancing on the large creature. Looking back, the rider saw four dragons following close behind. This was by design. These four dragons had been held captive for a number of years, and left for dead upon evacuation of the village that held them. Each dragon was a different species. One was a blue Deadly Nadder with yellow highlights and a tan underbelly. Flying just behind her was an orange and red monstrous nightmare. Beside him was a forest green zippleback. And bringing up the rear was a sandy brown gronckle. These four dragons were reluctant to trust humans again. Fortunately, the stormcutter's rider was adept at gaining the trust of dragons.

Together, the strange group approached a large island. This island was unlike any other. It contained a village like any other, but at the centre of this village stood a tower. This tower stood three hundred meters tall. While built upon a combination of wood and stone, the outside was reinforced with a particularly versatile metal. Near the top of the tower, one of the floors had no walls and held up the remaining three floors with reinforced support pillars. This floor was a take-off and landing area for dragons of various shapes and sizes. The stormcutter led the other dragons to the landing area. This particular floor was as tall as it was wide. As the five dragons and the rider finally landed, they were greeted by a young dark haired girl accompanied by a razorwhip. The girl had green eyes and wore a long-sleeve light gray shirt with a black, short sleeved hooded shirt over it. She also had a brown leather vest, dark gray pants, and brown boots, three black belts, as well as one that holds her horn. metallic-like scales donned her shoulder guards, bracers, knee pads, and skirt. She went to greet the new arrivals.

"Welcome home, Valka. I see you managed to break Berk's prisoners out of jail." the girl said, placing a hand on her hip as she stood with a confident pose.

The rider named Valka removed their mask to reveal a mature yet still beautiful woman behind it. She smiled at the young girl. "Indeed I did. It's not that difficult to do when the guards have abandoned their post in favor of surviving." she replied. The girl just chuckled as she approached the nadder, holding out a gentle hand towards it. The nadder went to bite her hand, but stopped as it noticed her eyes. The sharp pupils, the slight glow that was reminiscent of something the dragon thought to only be a legend. Unsure how to respond, the nadder merely let the girl take the lead, and was rewarded with kindness and affection in the form of a gentle pat on the nose. Such an unfamiliar feeling.

"Poor things. They thought they were going to starve to death in those cold, dark cages." she said, her face portraying concern for the uncertain and generally frightened dragons. "Their recovery will be difficult, but also the perfect challenge for some of the students." she added, moving to scratch the nadder under the chin. The dragon keeled over in pleasure almost instantly. The girl just chuckled.

"How are the students doing?" Valka asked. This elicited a laugh from the girl.

"They're doing just fine, but their Dragonese classes are suffering a bit, due to their teacher being absent. I've tried to fill in as best I can, but I don't have the same flair for it as he does." she said, flaring her hands as she spoke. Valka chuckled.

"And where is it _he_ has gone?" she asked. Another voice sounded within their minds, drawing their attention to a Night Fury with a prosthetic tail.

" _He went out to send_ _ **them**_ _a lifeline, so to speak. His words, not mine._ " the dragoness said as she approached the small group.

"Ah, Toothless. You didn't go with him?" Valka asked. Toothless shook her head. It still surprised Valka how animated the Night Fury could be with basic gestures.

" _He had another task for me. Nothing one of the students couldn't handle. I know he just had me do it because he didn't want me anywhere near those people._ " she replied.

"Speak of the devil…" the dark haired girl said, looking towards the horizon. Everyone turned to see a huge dragon approach the landing area. It was a giant Night Fury with midnight blue markings along its head and spine. The dragon was at least three times the size of Toothless, and as it landed, it walked casually towards the group, it's glowing green eyes flashing to initiate a transformation.

The scales on the giant dragon peeled away like flakes of ash, as did the flesh and bone until all that remained was a young man with dark brown hair and intense green eyes. The transformation took all of five seconds and as the last of the draconic body blew away like ash in the wind, the man stopped before the two humans and the seven dragons, a content smile on his face. Unlike the others, this dragon-turned-human didn't have armoured plating. His clothing consisted of a black sleeveless skin-tight hooded tunic with blue trim around the shoulders, black baggy pants held up by an off-white sash with a black cloth covering his left leg. In addition, he also wore two elbow-length blue fur gloves and black leather knee-high boots.

"Talking about me, were you?" he asked, his voice was deep for someone of his build, but not so deep as to make one believe it didn't belong to him.

"Just complaining that your students prefer you over me." the young girl said.

The male chuckled at this. "Come now, Heather. I'm sure that's not the case." he replied. As he spoke, he walked over to Toothless and gently slid his hands from either side of her face, to her neck behind her frills, leaning in for a hug, which the night fury was more than happy to give.

"How did it go with the villagers?" Valka asked, getting the man's attention. He turned around to face her.

"I think I gave them a scare, despite the fact they couldn't see me. But other than that, I gave them their lifeline, now they'll have enough food to make it to the nearest island. Which from their location is either here or Boar Island. It has an abundance of boars, so they won't go hungry." he chuckled.

"What if they come here?" Heather asked.

"My house, my rules." the man said with a devilish grin on his face. "Now then, if you'll excuse me, I have something I wish to discuss with Toothless in private. Without another word, the two women left with the other dragons until only he and Toothless remained.

" _What did you want to talk about, Hiccup?_ "


	4. Chapter 3

The vikings of Berk made port on an unfamiliar, yet inhabited island. At first, they were all relieved; finally, after two weeks of nothing but open water and scraps of food, the chance to eat and drink heartily was upon them. Then they noticed the state of the place. Most of the village surrounding the large tower was a ruin. What little of it wasn't was mostly under construction. Whatever it was, it seemed to be a relatively new village being built over an old one.

Among the first to depart from the vessels was Stoick. As chief, he had to represent his people, speak on their behalf. While he hated begging for anything, he had little to no alternative. This made things even worse when he noticed that humans weren't the only villagers in town. Stoick, and a good portion of Berk's people ducked in panic as a Deadly Nadder shot overhead. Stoick could hear Spitelout grouching about the beast nearly knocking off his helmet. While the chief wanted to agree and start cussing the overgrown reptiles out, he noticed a young woman around Astrid's age walking casually towards the Berkians.

Stoick knew she was a warrior just by noting the confidence in her gait. She was a woman, but no less deadly than the dragons she lived with if that armour was anything to go by. Stoick could tell she was not someone to be trifled with. In every way that mattered, she was a mirror image of Astrid. The young woman stopped just a few feet short of Stoick, placed a hand over her left breast and bowed respectfully.

"Welcome to Sanctuary, Stoick the vast. We've been expecting you." the young woman said. Stoick was about to show respect himself when he heard the latter part of her greeting. The warrioress chuckled at his evident confusion and answered the question he'd yet to ask. "We've been aware of your situation regarding the evacuation of Berk for… quite some time. My friend wasn't sure you'd leave. He was quite surprised to find out you had. But I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Heather. I've been asked by my friend to help get you settled into Sanctuary, should you decide to stay." she continued, smiling as she paused to let Stoick respond.

Suffice it to say, Stoick was speechless. So many questions filled his mind, now that this Heather had introduced herself. How did they know about Berk's troubles? How did they know they were coming? And who is her _friend_?

Unsurprisingly, Spitelout was the first to break the silence. "Well, that's all well and good, lass. But just how do you expect us to deal with your dragons? We're not exactly on good terms with them at the moment." the burly viking explained. A chorus of agreeing voices sounded from behind as the rest of Berk gathered around behind their chief.

"I understand your situation, sir. I once lived in a village that was under similar conditions. I won't bore you with the details, but that village has learned to work with dragons, as opposed to needlessly killing them." Heather said, addressing Spitelout as she spoke. Most of the vikings weren't convinced. "Still, there is a rule on this island, if you feel you can't get along with dragons. Simply put; neither dragon, nor man can be hurt by the other so long as they live on this island. It is the one absolute law that must be followed. Those who break this law are punished based upon the circumstances behind why it was broken. So if you're feeling particularly masochistic, I dare you to try and harm a dragon and get off this island alive." Heather adopted a sinister glare and trained it towards Spitelout who flinched under her gaze before stepping down.

"Of course, we're not unreasonable. Dragons must also follow this law. Essentially, if you live on this island, you can't be attacked. But we won't stop you from defending yourselves against dragons not associated with this island."

"So, what happens if this law _is_ broken?" asked Fishlegs, stepping forward to stand just a step behind Stoick. Heather could tell the young man wasn't challenging this law, but simply asking the question at face value. She dropped her scowl and smiled sweetly at the stout young viking.

"Well, it depends on the situation. Sometimes, certain events can trigger a dragon's survival instinct and a human will get hurt as a result. In those instances, the attack was beyond anybody's control and no punishment is warranted. As for Humans, very little can truly affect a person's mentality, so it can't be written off as an accident unless it's for training purposes. In that case, like before, no punishment is given. For new arrivals like yourselves, you're let off with warnings within the first month of your stay here. After that, if you attack a dragon again, you'll be viewed as a potential enemy and you'll either be exiled or executed. The same goes for dragons. Incidentally, the dragons you left in the pens back on Berk have been brought here for rehabilitation and are given a limited amount of time to adjust." Fishlegs, as well as the rest of berk took in the information as best they could. They were all dangerously aware that breaking the law could result in their untimely death, one way or another.

"Who's in charge here?" Stoick asked. He tried to sound as non-threatening and calm as possible, but he was nervous and stressed. Needless to say, it didn't help to get his passive words across. Fortunately, Heather seemed to pick up what he was putting down and smiled just as sweetly as before to him.

"You'll meet him in a little bit. He wants to surprise you. I'm just here to give you an orientation. Afterwards, I'll be taking you and your council to meet him." Heather replied. Stoick knew he wouldn't get any more out of her. She wasn't a fool. Despite his hatred of dragons, he knew that his people wouldn't survive another venture out to sea so soon. Holding in an annoyed grunt, he motioned for Heather to continue.

While Berk's people were given a guided tour through what little of the village was functional, Astrid was keeping a close eye on Snotlout and the twins. Like Stoick, she understood the gravity of their situation; if they didn't play along, Berk's people could be in serious trouble. What bothered her the most was the fact that her charges didn't seem to be acting like themselves. The twins were orderly, and Snotlout was quiet. This was strangely unnerving. One might have chalked it up to fatigue, but Astrid knew better. The twins were planning something, and Snotlout was waiting for the opportunity to point out a flaw. Yes, that had to be it.

Suddenly and without warning, a zippleback flew overhead and perched nearby. The sudden distraction caused Astrid to forget about her friends in favor of protecting herself if need be. That's when it happened.

"Yeah! Alright, Zippleback!" said Tuffnut. "Woohoo!" he added, with Ruffnut screaming just as excitedly beside her brother. Their arms were flailing excitedly in the air, and they ran towards the new dragon without a care in the world.

"No, you muttonheads!" Astrid screamed after them. But it was too late, the twins weren't listening. They were already halfway to the Zippleback who seemed to be taking quite an interest in the pair.

Surprisingly, Heather just laughed. "That zippleback was the second dragon from Berk to be rehabilitated. He doesn't hold a grudge, that one." she said, watching with a grin as the zippleback allowed Ruffnut and Tuffnut to climb onto his necks.

"Yeah! Dragonriders! We're unstoppable!" Tuff cried out, one arm in the air.

"Preach, brother!" Ruff coaxed.

While Berk's people looked on in shock, awe and in some cases, disgust; Heather just continued to laugh. Finally, she clapped her hands together and sighed. "Excellent, we were hoping for something like this to happen." she said, drawing the attention of Astrid, Stoick and the council members. Heather could tell that they wanted an explanation. She resumed chuckling as she turned around and continued the tour. With a few angry murmurs, the people followed, as did the twins on their new Zippleback.

* * *

The tour went without any further hitches. The villagers of Berk were silent for the most part, mainly due to fatigue. Stoick asked most of the relevant questions while Snotlout and the gang were being stupid with the zippleback. Astrid kept a watchful eye out. She was very uncomfortable in this strange new place. The outermost part of the village was little more than ruins, indicating that the Dragonriders must have settled on the island within the past few years. The further in they went, the newer things seemed. Heather had showed the villagers the market, filled with merchants and fresh goods. Then they saw the housing; more houses than villagers, it seemed. Then they were led to the smithy. There were a few master blacksmiths working together. Needless to say, Gobber was pleased with their work, and the interesting new designs. There were items Gobber had never seen before. Among those items, there was a familiarity in their design that he couldn't quite place. He made a mental note to return later.

"There seem to be a lot of houses and very few villagers. What's the deal with that?" Astrid asked, eyeing Heather suspiciously. The raven haired girl turned around and continued walking backwards as she answered.

"Those houses were built in anticipation for people like you who have sought refuge from war-torn lands. Essentially, those houses are yours now." she said. There was a mixture of confused and pleased murmurs coming from the crown of Berkians.

Stoick spoke up this time. "And what if people from different villages and towns got into an argument? Who's responsible for regulating this? Your friend?" Heather knew Stoick wanted to know who her friend was, but she wasn't going to be baited.

"No, not us. Our job is to enforce the law. The individuals who make it however… I'll let my friend tell you who's in charge." she said, a cheeky smile on her face that only served to unnerve Astrid even more.

The group reached the foot of the large tower that stood out from the rest of the village. It was huge, cylindrical and the top couldn't be seen from the ground. To the left of the tower was a large pit, not unlike Berk's training arena, but it was much larger. Astrid noticed a group of young villagers wielding only shields within the arena. They seemed to be subduing a particularly aggressive Nadded. She wasn't the only one to notice; most of Berk's villagers had stopped to look at the comotion. Heather stood beside Astrid and looked down at the scene below.

The Nadder spewed fire at one of the young humans who just managed to get his shield up in time to block it. Failing to kill the human, the Nadder instead opted to use its tail. Extending the barbs, she swung her tail towards the nearest individual and struck shield once again. With her barbs stuck to the shield, she ripped it from the man's arm. Unable to defend himself, the man chose to retreat, never turning his back to the Nadder.

After seeing the dragon's moves, Astrid recognised this dragon immediately. "That's the Nadder from Berk's training arena." she pointed out. Some of the villagers took a second to double check her claim.

"Indeed. Unlike the Zippleback, her rehabilitation hasn't gone very smoothly. She refuses to let anyone but me or my friend near her. I worry about her future here." Heather said, turning away from the arena.

"What's so special about you and your friend?" Snotlout asked. Heather just chuckled at him.

"All in good time, folks." she replied. With the rest of the villagers, Heather led them to the entrance of the tower. Standing there was a tall figure with a tusked mask. Heather knew Valka would take the opportunity to see Stoick, just not this soon. She waited for the masked rider to speak. Stoick could feel a tension in the air, but he couldn't understand why. This new being seemed to have Heather on edge. He decided to break the ever growing awkward silence.

"And who might this be?" he asked. The masked rider noticeably looked from Heather over to him. As brave and strong as he was, that mask was quite unnerving. Even Stoick had to back up a step once its gaze found him. The rider cautiously walked up to the hefty Viking and stopped short of a meter in front of him. Surprisingly, the rider's posture did not match the fear the mask inspired in him. In truth, the individual in front of him seemed almost afraid of _him_.

"Stoick." the rider said. It was a simple single word, his name. But the voice the rider used was one that caused the Viking to stumble. He knew that voice. His body began to shake as he slowly lifted his hand, afraid that what he thought he heard wasn't true. His shaking hand touched the surface of the mask and the rider leaned into it, like a dragon would. Stoick mustered the strength to lift the mask up, seeing first the rider's chin.

As Stoick slowly lifted the mask, he recognised the parts of the face that belonged to the rider; from her narrow chin, to her strong female jawline, to her well pronounced cheeks. Then the mask gave way to her forest green eyes. Virtually her entire face was now visible to Stoick and his voice caught in his throat. All that came out was a surprised and pained gasp.

Valka; the masked rider was Valka. The memory of her being stolen away by that Stormcutter flooded his mind as he tried to make sense of this. Valka was there, right in front of him. Her eyes were focused on him; she could see him as clearly as he saw her. She wasn't an illusion.

"I don't believe it." Spitelout said, just as shocked as the rest of Berk. "Val? How in Odin's name did you wind up here? Alive?!" he asked. Everyone wanted to know, none more than Stoick.

Valka answered, never taking her eyes off of Stoick. "Before the dragon took me, I saw it near Hiccup's crib. At first, I thought it was going to kill my son, but as I watched, I saw that it wasn't preying on him. It was checking up on him, curious about him. That moment proved what I'd been trying to tell everyone all along; that there was more to dragons than just mindless slaughter. When it saw me, it didn't attack, not until Stoick came in. In the confusion, the dragon took me. It was trying to protect me."

As Valka told everyone about what had happened to her, Stoick's mind locked onto something that made him very afraid: Hiccup. How would he explain losing their son to her?

When the tale of Valka's life with dragons was over, the villagers of Berk were quite confused. Everything they thought they knew about dragons was wrong, and what little of it was right was just the tip of the iceberg. Everyone was relatively silent, only murmuring to each other to come to some kind of opinion on the matter.

Before anyone could say anything more on the subject, Heather stepped in. "I think it's about time for the council to meet _him_. Valka, would you take Stoick and the others on up, please?" Heather asked. Valka smiled and took one more look at Stoick before turning around and heading into the tower.

Stoick followed with Spitelout, Gobber and a few others trailing behind him.

* * *

It was a long climb up. Clearly, the tower was designed to house dragons; though why the creatures needed such things were beyond Stoick. Frankly, he didn't care. All his attention was on the woman guiding him to this mysterious leader.

He'd yet to say a word to her, and this pained him. She was his wife. Long lost, yes. Estranged? Maybe, but hopefully not for much longer. He knew this woman, and she was worth having an open mind for. So he would put away his hatred for dragons, his desire and instinct to kill them on sight and listen to his wife.

"Eh, Val… I hate to ask, but; the dragon that took you. Is it still around?" Gobber asked, breaking the silence. Truthfully, Stoick had forgotten about the dragon, too focused on the fact that she was alive and well. He didn't want to risk getting angry. Valka was a strong-minded woman. She was also mysterious when it came to her reactions. This made her impossible to fight and win against. It was also what drew him to her in the first place.

"Yes, Cloudjumper has become my best friend over the years. He's shown me wonders and scenes the likes of which I thought I'd only ever see in Valhalla." as if his name had summoned him, Cloudjumper was waiting around the bend. When he made eye contact, he remained still so as not to aggravate the Vikings who jumped at his sudden presence.

Valka skipped up to the skycutter and hugged him. The large dragon leaned his head down and rubbed it against Valka's in an affectionate hug. It took every ounce of willpower Stoick had not to rush over and wrench Valka away from the beast. He tried to force himself to adopt the mentality that so long as it wasn't harming anyone, especially Valka, it didn't need to die.

"I take it this is Cloudjumper?" Gobber asked, once again breaking the awkward silence. It was one of the few times where the fact that Gobber didn't know when to shut up came in handy.

Valka turned to the group and smiled. "Yes, this is he." she replied. Her eyes turned to Stoick who was visibly trying to remain calm. She knew this must have been hard for him. And she was grateful for the effort. It also told her that he was willing to give their marriage another chance.

Valka motioned for the group to keep following. With the addition of Cloudjumper, they all made their way further up. It was a good half hour before they reached near the top. The floor they found themselves on was open and lacked any walls, just support pillars. A couple of dragons of various shapes and sizes were grazing throughout, but Valka ignored them and led the group to one dragon in the distance.

The Vikings couldn't make the dragon out at first. It wasn't like anything they'd seen before. Even as they got closer, its black colour clouded its general shape. The dragon was curled up and appeared to be asleep. A clearing of the throat from Valka broke this illusion as the dragon's head whipped around and its grass green eyes sharpened on the guests.

Every Viking stumbled backwards and fell on their backsides as they realised what the dragon was. While there were no pictures of the creature, there was no mistaking that the dragon before them was the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself: A Night Fury.

In the confusion and the panicked cries of the Vikings, a tall slender figure rose from behind the Night Fury's form. Stoick was the first to notice. His features were hidden behind an oversized black hood, connected to a black sleeveless tunic. Stoick noticed that the man, although skinny, was deceptively strong. He could tell from the confident stance he held in front of everyone. His arms were crossed behind his back instead of in front, meaning he wasn't afraid of the larger men in front of him. This individual was strong and smart. Stoick had encountered many enemies with this mentality and in all honesty, he was thankful to have been strong enough to survive them.

"Don't worry about her. She knows when to attack and when not to." the man said, chuckling as he made his way casually around the Night Fury. He stopped in between the Vikings and his dragon, looking to Valka with apparent interest. "I wasn't expecting you to reveal yourself so soon." he said.

Valka nodded. "Neither was I. But I just knew I couldn't wait any longer. It's been twenty years since we last saw each other." she explained. The hooded rider brought one of his hands out from behind his back and gestured for Valka to relax.

"I know. Believe me, I know." he said, returning his arm behind his back. He then looked to the Vikings who were suitable confused. "Welcome to Sanctuary, Vikings of Berk. I trust you're all thoroughly exhausted and vexed from the last two weeks?"


End file.
